Purge
by rhombusofterror
Summary: S7 AU. A pseudo-return fic of sorts. Because why waste such a perfectly good body anyway? Especially when he could do so much more damage with it. It certainly helps that he isn't truly alone in there. Now the fun really begins. T because paranoia.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Leviathan

* * *

><p>When he wakes it is bright out.<p>

He is on his back, the sunlight glittering off the water that envelops the lower half of his body. He is weak from the effort it took to pull this body back together. The essence of his brothers and sisters has long since been washed from his skin by the softly rippling lake. They have moved on from this place.

They have a plan. He must stick to their plan.

A voice calls from somewhere distant.

He sluggishly pulls himself up, unused to the empty feeling which contrasted with the near bursting sensation when his family had all been crammed into this one body. The voice shouts again and he turns his head. There was a man wearing a uniform, he was frowning. He watches the man, this human who is steadily encroaching on him. The mans words soon fill his ears.

'Hey! You can't be in there! What do you think you're doing?'

He looks at the man and stumbles forward, his legs still wobbly in their newness. The man in the uniform pauses before he continues, slowly now, any annoyance has left his face, now replaced with concern.

Something drips down the side of his face and he knows it isn't blood. The human balks.

'Whoa buddy, you okay?' he offers no reply. 'Are you alright? Hey man, answer me, are you hurt?' he stays silent as the man foolishly continues his journey forward. He hasn't eaten in so long. The temptation was there, he would ignore it for now. He needed to be somewhere.

He felt the grin slide easily across his face. Wide, teeth bared; he saw the uniformed mans face change. Saw him stop in his tracks. Fear clouding his eyes.

He moves quickly. Far faster than the human could hope to move. Soon the man lies on the rocky dirt below them, neck broken in two places, he chokes to death on his own blood a short while later.

He is still starving.

* * *

><p>He is not alone in this body. He knows this, has known since before his brothers and sisters where expelled. The angel. The angel who opened the doorway and freed them; albeit unintentionally. The angel whose grace has been damaged, currently leaving him nothing more than a whisper in the back of his mind.<p>

Castiel.

He feeds off the angels' sorrow, revels in his anguish, learns from his memories.

He must continue their plan.

And he knows just how to do it, but for now he hides- no. Not hidden. He is waiting. He is gathering his strength. Spending most of his time rifling through the memories of the angel, whose voice has been getting stronger as the days pass. He learns so much. Discovers secrets that make him laugh coldly, taunting the other being who resides in this body. The angel has tried -desperately- to shield himself and his thoughts, but the angel is weak. Weaker than he is. It's so easy.

He passes the rest of his time following the humans 'news'. Roman has done well. The hunters are no doubt convinced he is the 'head of the operation' as they call it. This amuses him as well. Everything is falling together flawlessly. It will be all too easy to infiltrate the Winchesters lives. To gain their trust.

While his brothers and sisters spread themselves across this 'powerhouse' of a nation, he will work his way into the brothers lives, into the arms of the only humans who pose a threat to their plans. He will destroy them from the inside.

It will destroy the angel too. To watch, unable to do anything, as he destroys everything.

A quiet rumble of thunder sounds in the distance, he laughs. Edging on hysteria as a silent scream echos in the recess of his mind.

* * *

><p>He tracks the Winchesters down using the unwilling angels' memories as well as his own senses. It is easy.<p>

He knows he is weak. He has not feed in many, many years. He will last a few more days, and he needn't wait long.

He has found them. In a small cottage rather far off the map. Thankfully the angels' memories reek of the brothers. He can smell them. Only the two of them. The other who frequents the angels' memories, the man called 'Singer' has been dealt with.

* * *

><p>It is raining again.<p>

How fitting. His clothes are as soaked as they were the day he woke in the lake. He shifts the muscles of his body's face. Into something akin to hurt, pain and desperation. The angel has seen it enough on both brothers.

He reaches to bang the wooden door. He only hits it twice before the door is flung open and a pair of narrowed green eyes and the barrel of a shotgun are pointed in his face. The eyes go wide with surprise and confusion. The short-haired man before him stares at him, taking in his features, unsure if he is real or a hoax. The angels' voice murmurs in the back of his head; he ignores it. He needs to get inside. He needs to make them believe.

He knows exactly the way to pull on the elder Winchesters torn and battered heartstrings.

He turns piercing blue eyes to meet green. Filling them with the most desperate of emotions he can muster, pouring all the unfamiliar and unwelcome feeling the angel remembers into his stare. He chokes out one word.

One word he knows will tear down any walls the green-eyed man will have put around himself.

One word before he rolls his eyes back and falls boneless to the floor.

'Dean...'

And he's in.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Um... I'm still iffy about posting this, but it's kind of been bouncing around my head for a while. It just really wanted to be written down. I, personally, think that the 'head Leviathan' should've stayed in Cas' vessel because I adored that ten second Leviathan!Cas scene and wish there was more. My first attempt at a Supernatural fanfic, so don't kill me.

I hope someone decides to like this and if they want me to continue, I'll definitely try, but for now I think I'll keep it as a oneshot.

Reviews and criticisms are welcome!

~DrHooksTowingandCo


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Dean

* * *

><p>He notices it sometimes. That glint in his- in the angels' eyes when he thinks he isn't being watched. It sends shivers down his spine. He won't admit it out loud, but it scares him.<p>

Because it's like being back in that warehouse when Cas- when he told them to kneel before him. Back when his body (because Dean knew deep down that Jimmy was long gone) was taken over. Consumed by black sludge. He prays to whatever deity out there who'll listen that it won't happen. Not again.

The angel is quiet. Ever since he appeared in their doorway during the storm. Then again, Dean hasn't said much to him. Neither of them had. The past week has been an awkward dance of avoidance between the three of them ever since the angel dropped on their doorstep.

He remembers it vividly.

* * *

><p>It feels like a dream. Because it's been so long since those intensely blue eyes have looked at him like that. Because the last time he saw those eyes, they had been wide and crazed as the monster declared the angel dead before that last walk into the lake.<p>

Now they were watching him again and he knew it was different. He knew that somehow, his -dammit-_the_ angel had survived. He didn't have time to question it before the rough voice was saying his name and the sopping wet body was collapsing to the ground.

His name. He could hear everything the angel wanted to say in that one word.

Sam had heard him shouting. He had been rendered just as speechless as his brother while the two of them wordlessly moved the unconscious angel to the threadbare couch.

* * *

><p>That feels like forever ago.<p>

Now he is conflicted. On one side, he is angry at the angel who'd betrayed him -_them_; who'd torn the wall in his brothers mind down. But on the other, he was... not exactly happy, but inconceivably relieved. The Leviathan's had told them the angel was dead. Gone.

He couldn't even bring himself to yell after the angel had woken up. Not when he just sat there looking so miserable, dejected, _hurt_. It gives him time to think. About what both he and the angel have done in the past. It is then that he realized they had both made their mistakes. Funnily enough, he thinks bitterly, this whole mess would've been avoided if they had both just sat their stubborn asses down and talked and -more importantly- listened.

Presently, he doesn't have the heart to ask if the angel even _is_ an angel anymore. Frankly, he doesn't want to know.

* * *

><p>Some days Cas -the angel had become 'Cas' again- would sit at the small kitchen table. Just sit there and stare, his eyes void of any kind of emotion. They didn't bother him when he was like this. It was unnerving. Almost as bad as the crazed glints. Almost.<p>

Other days, he would bleed. Not red, black. Filthy, _Leviathan_ black. He had panicked the first time he'd seen it. The angel had been surprisingly calm about it, telling him his grace (so he had stayed an angel to some extent) was in the process of purging as it had been tainted by the touch of the Leviathan and that this would be happening from time to time.

He wonders why the angel could be so calm, as it has done little to ease his own worries.

The worst had been the last time this happened. He had been woken up to the sound of coughing. He finds Cas, perched on the small couch he'd taken up, teetering on the verge of choking. Black blood is running from his mouth onto his hands. He sees the angels face as he stares at the blood. He doesn't look scared, he doesn't even look like he's in pain.

It almost looks like he's _angry_.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<em>: <em>**So I've decided to update. Admittedly not a very long chapter, but I didn't really intend for this to be a very long story.

_Huge_ thanks to Luxy-Minion-of-the-Lordfor reviewing/favouriting!

Criticisms and feedback welcome!

~DrHooksTowingandCo


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Castiel

* * *

><p>He comes into consciousness cold and alone.<p>

No. Not alone. At least, not in one sense of the word. He has become a passenger in his own vessel. He can understand -and now relate to- the phrase 'being strapped to a comet'. Only this isn't a comet.

It's a black hole.

He is so weak. His grace has been left in tatters from the Leviathans presence. The last moments of his life before the lake continually flash through his mind. Now that there was only one of them, he was fully aware, not crushed by the sheer amount of monster possessing his vessel.

He can only watch as this sole Leviathan kills a man. And-

No.

_No._

He finds himself remembering.

Not exactly _his _memories, but he can see them from his vessels eyes. The pressure from the sheer amount of Leviathans that had nearly pushed him away had blacked out his senses Like being unconscious. The memories he finds horrify him.

_Oh no._

It's like he's there. Reliving it over and over. He can see their faces. Bobby. Sam. _Dean. _It hurts him to see the pain. Pain he knows he has caused, clearly written on their faces. There is also anger. This, in turn, hurts him. They didn't understand. _He_ didn't understand.

* * *

><p>The Leviathan, he realizes- is the oldest of old. The<p>

closest thing these monsters have to a leader. More powerful than he'd ever thought. It's tearing through his mind now. Try as he might, he cannot hide from the monster invading his own conscious. He can hear it laughing and laughing as it learns more from him. Learns everything he has done. Every life he has taken. Every lie he has ever told. Everything he has tried to protect. And it isn't the worst part.

It's when he has to watch the memories he clings to like lifelines. The ones where he was with his family. Be it his true brethren of Heaven, or the new family he had found on Earth. The family he knows he has lost.

His anguished cry echos from the depths of his vessels mind. Unheard by all but one.

And it continues to laugh.

* * *

><p>It nearly breaks his metaphorical heart to see the hunter at the door. It feels as though an eternity has passed since the last time he has seen that face. He can almost feel his mouth moving. He can hear the word forming before it is his voice that speaks it.<p>

_'Dean...'_

So the monster is skilled with theatrics. His vision goes black and he can feel the Leviathan grinning as he is pulled up by a pairs of arms that is soon joined by yet another. _Sam._

The Leviathan is addressing him from inside his mind. Taunting him.

_'We can't thank you enough.'_

_'Castiel.'_

_'They will suffer as you watch. Everything will burn.'_

_'Burn.'_

_Burn._

_Castiel._

_'...And once it is burnt we will swallow this planet whole.'_

_Drowning._

_'Drowning in black.'_

_Darkness falling._

_'This will be so much...fun.'_

And again he screams.

* * *

><p>He is tired.<p>

It has been days wince the Leviathan has taken his place amongst the Winchesters. And they don't notice.

Of course, none f them had really interacted enough to notice. And he wished they would. Some days, when he has the energy, he does nothing but scream at them.

Why can't you see it?

I'm in here! This isn't me!

Please, stop it before it kills you!

Help.

He wonders if God ever cared.

* * *

><p>His grace has been getting stronger. He has begun to push at the Leviathans presence -not the it does much. Not that it could do much at all.<p>

He bleeds. Not much at first. There is only so much he can do before his energy becomes depleted once again. It's usually a little here and there.

Then it happens.

The Leviathan in his body is pretending to sleep on the couch yet again. This time is usually spent taunting him. Showing him their plans before they happen. Making him relive everything that has happened in the last few months. This time the Leviathan is... subdued. Not resting or weakened; just there, _existing._ This makes him angry for some reason. He lashes out quickly and doesn't stop until he can't go on.

His body is being sat up and his hands brought to his mouth where his body -and the Leviathan- are choking on its blood. Black staining his chin and hands. The Leviathan would not die from this, but it didn't stop it from coughing. Hacking up more blood as the wear from two inhabitants takes it toll on the body. If anything, the Leviathan is more furious that it had been hit -and though barely dented, still injured. Then there is a hand on his shoulder. He starts slightly. A voice he recognizes well is asking if he's alright. The Leviathan, mouth still full of blood, can't answer right away. Only continues to glare at the hands in front of it. As if daring itself to bleed any further.

He takes this singular moment of distraction to push his way to the front. Wrenching one hand to the side, gripping the emerald-eyed man beside him by the wrist, he looked straight at him. Imploring.

'De- ...!'

The Leviathan violently rips back control. Wrenching him back. He is fighting it as much as he can in his state. The body, his vessel, can't handle the two beings; one inter-dimensional solar flare and one hulking black terror of the deep, savagely tearing at each other from inside out.

His body is on the floor, he notes vaguely while desperately trying to fend off another blow form the Leviathan, shaking with the sheer force of the two beings residing inside of it. He can almost make out the sounds of shouting.

He grows weaker.

This thing is too strong for him.

He will not win.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Phew. That took longer than expected, but I'm fond of this chapter so I don't really care. Also if I hadn't mentioned this before, I don't own anything and all crappy grammar/spelling is entirely my fault.

As for Cas and the Leviathan 'battling it out inside of his mind', well, let's just say it looked cooler in my head than it sounded typed out. All Inception-y and whatnot.

Thanks to everyone who added this to their favourites and alerts!

Reviews and critiques are welcomed and appreciated!

~DrHooksTowingandCo


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Leviathan

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><p>Of course. <em>Of course.<em> Just as he was on the verge of gaining trust from the Winchesters, the angel had managed to gather enough strength to do something like _this._

He glares at his hands, watching his life blood drain from this body's mouth. Such a waste. The elder Winchester has his hand on his shoulder, muffled words of concern barely permeate his ears. The angel is still fighting.

How... _cute._

He pulls himself inwards, focusing all of his own energy in destroying the angel who clung to it's old vessel like a parasite.

_You can't win._

His body has fallen over. He hardly registers the thud it makes as it hits the floor. A muffled shout is followed by the foot falls of the younger Winchester. There are hands trying to hold the body down, more words being shouted at him.

He ignores it.

The angel lands a few more blows, but it is weakening quickly. He can almost taste the resignation.

The leviathan rears back. This is it. He strikes the final blow.

But the angel is no longer there.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4:<span> Dean

* * *

><p>His hand is gripping Cas' shoulder. He realizes he's been repeating the phrase 'Are you okay?' quite a few times without response. The angel twitches, his face briefly becoming a grimace.<p>

That's all the warning he gets.

It happens in a mater of seconds. Castiel is on the floor. Black still leaking from his mouth, body shaking and arching off the thread bare carpet.

In a moment of panic, he calls for Sam. Hands trying to hold the angel down. Sam is quickly by his side. They are both shouting now. Trying to snap the angel out of whatever... thing has gotten him like this.

Cas' hand reaches up. Blue eyes remain shut tight. The angel's hand brushes over his arm, then he shudders once and goes still.

All he can do is stare while Sam is still checking- checking to make sure the angel is _alive_.

It's the warehouse all over again. All damn over again. And he knows. Deep down, he knows what will happen. He knows the angel isn't breathing.

'Dean, he's not breathing.'

He knows they can't do anything.

'I- I don't think there's anything else we can do.'

And he knows _he'll_ be waking up soon.

'Dean, I- _holy shit!_'

Blue eyes snap open. He can see that look. The look that was slowly creeping into Castiel's eyes as soon as he came back. But was he even there in the first place? Pale, chapped lips slowly pull themselves into a vicious grin as the angel's body sits up without the angel in it.

'Hello boys.' it says, the words curling around its tongue in a voice so unlike the normally gruff voice of the angel. Of their friend.

'Did you miss me?'

* * *

><p><em>Are you there Cas? It's me, Dean.<em>

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't listen. I'm sorry we pushed you away. I'm sorry you died. I'm sorry you aren't here anymore._

_I'm sorry I didn't get to tell you this before._

* * *

><p><em>Cas? Sam's still not better. You promised. You <em>promised_ you'd fix him. You promised me you'd make it up to me. _

_So why aren't you here?_

* * *

><p><em>Cas? Castiel? We need your help. There are too many of them. We don't know how to kill them yet.<em>

* * *

><p><em>Bobby's gone. Will you come back now?<em>

* * *

><p><em>Cas?<em>

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4:<span> Leviathan

* * *

><p>He stills for a moment.<p>

The angel is gone. How does that happen? Surely the little cosmic brat hadn't gathered enough strength to zap himself out... so then, who?

He thinks he knows. He doesn't want to believe it.

He sluggishly pushes himself back into full control of the angels newly vacated body. Well, it's certainly more comfortable like this. As he wakes, he can hear the voice of the younger Winchester.

'-ere's anything else we can do.' the other Winchester does not reply.

'Dean I-' he opens his eyes to stare at the taller, brown haired man. '_holy shit!'_

He grins. Pushing himself up and finding his voice soon after. His secret is out. This part of the plan has -as of now- been kibosh-ed. He may as well have some fun.

'Hello boys.' he will admit to enjoying this _far_ too much. 'Did you miss me?'

The looks on their faces make him laugh. Sam is shocked. Dean looks as though someone has died.

Which they just might've. He frowns mockingly.

'What? You didn't? And I thought we had _so_ much fun the last time around. Though, there were more guests...'

Sam is scrambling away from him and suddenly Dean is very angry.

'You _bastard!_' Dean is on his feet, glaring daggers at him, fists raised. He shakes a finger at the elder Winchester.

'Ah, ah, ah. You wouldn't want to break the angel's vessel before he gets a chance to use it again, would you?'

This makes them both pause. Dean's hands go slack as he stares back at them, smug triumph written across his face.

'You- He... he's still alive in there?'

He shrugs. _Just string them along, make the pain last as long as it can._

'The angel was here before. With us.' he says simply.

'You said he was _gone_! You said he was dead.'

'We lied.'

Both Winchesters are slack jawed, processing this information. That their friend had been alive through the whole ordeal with the lake. Everything.

'You should have heard the screaming.'

And he smiles.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Er... I'm not sure what I think about this chapter. Most of it was kind of thrown together as I typed, so I'm not a hundred percent about it. Please excuse all grammar/spelling errors you may have found. I own nothing.

Not sure what will happen after this (I only really planned up to this chapter and don't have many ideas about what to do next), so feedback of suggestions would be brilliant!

Thanks to those who reviewed!

~DrHooksTowingandCo


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Leviathan

* * *

><p>He dodges the fist thrown his way easily. The wild smirk never leaving his face.<p>

'Cas! Cas can you here me!' Dean is yelling, presumably at the angel who is no longer present.

'The angel won't hear you.' he says. 'It's not here anymore.'

Shock.

'Just me boys.'

Anger.

'What did you do with him!'

He shrugs lightly at the Winchesters growled question, moving fluidly across the stained carpet.

His plan -their plan- is ruined. There will be no way to regain any trust formed between the Winchesters and what they thought was their angel. But then again, he didn't care for it in the first place. It would be easier for him to just get rid of them now. He hasn't fed in so long.

Besides, he wants to...change things up. Roman has been keeping everyone in check so far.

But he is the one in charge, not Roman. Appearances must be kept. This is a most excellent back up to fall back onto. To the Winchesters he is one stray Leviathan come to torture them further. They still don't know. Still have no_ idea_.

And he is hungry.

His jaw unhinges. A gaping black hole of teeth. He is the one lunging towards them now. Sam releases his grip on his brother as they both move. Quicker than he had expected them to. One of them has managed to grab a gun left on the nearby table. He sees the bullet enter his abdomen more than he feels it. More black blood spilling from him. He growls, low and deep, before lunging again, crashing into the table. He whips around, this time catching one of them by the arm. Jagged teeth peeling back skin, exposing muscle and bone. Blood pours into his mouth and he has to pause, eyes closing.

Blood of the Righteous Man.

_Lovely._

Hopefully the rest of him will be just as delicious.

When his eyes open back to the world, he is alone. His jaw cracks and snaps back into place; rows of teeth folding, melding back into one pitifully dull set of bone. The malicious grin has yet to fade from his face, They have run.

He'll let them get away this time, he thinks as the sound of car tires screeching assaults his ears, he's always loved a good chase.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 5:<span> Dean

* * *

><p>He shouts in pain as the thing sinks its teeth into his arm. His only coherent thoughts at this moment are <em>get out.<em> _Get Sam out._ And he does just that. Wrenching his arm away from the monster who appears to have stopped to -he shudders in disgust- to savour the taste, in favour of grabbing his brother by the arm and forcibly pulling him out the door. They stumbled their way outside, away from the house where that _thing_ was. He pulls them both to the car they've parked nearby. Shoving his hand in his pocket, he nearly cries when he pulls the keys out.

_Thank you._

A hand stops him. Sam is staring, wide eyed, at his injured arm.

'Maybe- maybe I should drive...'

He doesn't care. He throws the keys at his surprised brother. He just needs them both far, far away from here.

It is only once they've both flung themselves into their seats and are peeling away, that he notices the adrenaline is fading. His arms feels like it's on fire. He clenches his jaw. Sam, whose grip on the steering wheel is turning his knuckles white, glances over at him.

'I'm taking you to the hospital.'

Between the pain and the blood loss, he doesn't protest.

* * *

><p>'We'll need to do a blood transfusion. A small one, mind you. But when he's regained consciousness, it might take some time to get him back on his feet. Lucky you got him here when you did.' a doctor, wearing a coat that very nearly blends with the sterile white walls behind him, smiles. Sam offers a weak nod, the doctor's smile fall a bit.<p>

'A bear, was it?' another nod. 'We get those a lot this time of the year. More so than usual this season. It's a bit strange.'

A nurse passes them. She backtracks a step, frowning like she's trying to figure out if she knows them or not. A vicious smile splits her face a moment later and she is gone before any of them notice. Sam is too busy thinking.

If he was having a hard time processing what had just happened, Lord knows what Dean was going through. Sam knew, he saw the glances they used to throw each other. Even if they themselves didn't.

He had been glad to see Cas again -despite certain circumstances which needn't be mentioned. Especially when it had been so good for Dean. His brother hadn't touched a bottle of anything but water since the angel had come back. But that had all been a lie and now they weren't even sure if Cas was still _alive_. He was worried. Worried about what would happen when Dean woke up. When they got out of the hospital.

_If_ they got out of the hospital.

He stayed vigilant, bordering on paranoia -not that any hunter wasn't already slightly paranoid. The doctor who continued to prattle on in his ear probably wasn't one of them. Not that they had anyway of telling, but this doctor seemed to jittery and 'fresh-out-of-internship'. Though, they weren't one hundred percent sure whether or not these Leviathans were good at acting (judging by Dick Roman and not-Cas, they probably were). They were essentially screwed.

But it was either wait to murdered in this hospital, or watch his brother bleed to death as they'd left most of their supplies back at the house. Back with _him_.

So waiting was all they had left.

* * *

><p>It left a scar. He notes dully as the groggy feeling of unconsciousness slowly begins to leave him. He stares at his arm, chest clenching in pain that wasn't really there. It isn't even the scar that's bothering him.<p>

It's where it ended up. As if the cruel irony of not-Cas returning wasn't enough. He briefly wonders if the monster in the angels body did it on purpose.

Four rough lines run red and sore along his arm, looking enough like a bear paw to fool almost anyone. But he sees the miniscule lines where the monsters smaller teeth only managed to scrape him.

Four marks that are prominent against the rest of his skin as they have slashed through a second scar on his arm that -if it had confused the doctors, they hadn't mentioned anything- rests on his upper arm.

Four lines torn straight through the already raised skin of the hand print.

Cas' hand print.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Oh, wow! Another chapter. I guess I lied a little bit about running low on inspiration. This just hit me with a sixth chapter in the making. Please excuse any grammar/spelling issues.

Also, because I didn't mention it before, in this AU, the borax thing never happened so they're pretty much in the dark about killing a Leviathan.

Thanks to everyone for their lovely reviews, favourites and alerts!

~DrHooksTowingandCo


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Leviathan

* * *

><p>"<em>Long before God created angel and man, He created the first Beasts. The Leviathans." - Death<em>

* * *

><p>The wound on his stomach has already healed. The blood that hadn't sunk its way into the dingy carpet beneath his feet, has crawled its way back under his new skin. Brushing wood chips from his shoulder, he frowned. It had -admittedly- been part of his plan to stay with the Winchesters long enough to hitch a ride to the closest town before checking up on Roman. Now he'll have to walk.<p>

Pity.

As he heads for the door, a splash of beige catches his eye. Hanging limply form a coat hanger, abandoned, forgotten, is an old trench coat. _Not just an old trench coat_, he thinks. No, this was the one that belonged to the angel. The Winchesters had not left it in the lake, but they had left it behind here. He grins at the sight of it and grabs it form its hook, slipping it on before tearing the door off its hinges.

He stalks down the gravel path from the Winchesters hideout, a little trickle of water drizzles form the sky. He looks up to the opaque wall of greyness and continues on.

While he walks, he thinks. Reminiscing isn't something he is normally fond of, not that there was much else to do when one is locked in the furthest depths of Purgatory with thousands of his brethren, but he does it anyway.

The first thing on his mind is Purgatory itself. They had had no hierarchy before Purgatory. It was just them, acting as one.

Purgatory; it was dark there. Empty. Yes, eventually it filled with many other monsters whose souls (or what was left of them) had come to rest there. But the Leviathans had been shoved down, dug into the deepest of pits at the bottom of the endless cavern that was Purgatory.

The creatures caretaker -mother, if you will- Eve, had glided past them only a few times. She had preferred tending to her own children. Though, if he was truly honest, he knew she was afraid of them.

His thoughts switch to their Father and a bitter, cold anger floods through him. His first creations, cast away; thought too ravenous, too destructive to continue to roam freely.

He almost find it amusing how disgustingly similar they are to a human household of three:

Leviathans; the eldest child, kicked from the house and forgotten. Disowned and angry.

Angels; dutiful middle child, pushed aside and left to their own devices. Quietly willing to please at any cost.

Humans; the youngest in the family, favoured above all others. Greedy and attention starved.

He feels no pity towards them. Any of them.

Filth.

He chooses not to dwell on the subject much longer, musing on their plans instead. All of his changes need to be enforced as soon as possible. The Winchesters may have gone into hiding for now, but they would come back. And they would be ready. Their numbers spread across the surface of this planet. Their plans already in full motion.

There was nothing that could stop them.

His thoughts flicker to the angel who managed to disappear in its weakened, tattered state, from its former vessel. He shakes his head and growls quietly to himself. No. Not possible. Not after this long. Not when they have just broken free and have set about reclaiming what is rightfully theirs.

When he reaches a small town, the first thing he grabs is a newspaper. The image of the human form Roman has taken is splashed on the front along with his campaign and achievements. There is a number in the far corner of the paper. He tears it out and tucks it in the trench coat pocket. Now to find a phone...

* * *

><p>The Earth of now is a strange and fascinating place. Very different from the never ending oceans and rolling waves of the cosmos he remembers from before Purgatory. The humans, they bustle around with now care in the world it seems. Each one going about their business, never stopping. It isn't until a man walks into him that he realizes he too has stopped -in a more literal sense of the word. He is frowning.<p>

'Watch it buddy.' the human hisses and keeps walking. He does not reply, only turns to stare at the mans retreating form. He follows.

When the human passes a darkened side street, he acts quickly, dragging the man with him and tossing him to the ground. The man is dazed, looking around confusedly before his eyes land on _him._

'Hey, what-? What the hell do you think you're doing?' he doesn't reply to the man, only continues to watch him, staring. The mans face pales and he starts to sweat. 'L-look, if this is about before, I'm sorry, I've got a meeting to get to and -hey!'

He pulls the man to his feet by the collar of his jacket. His face stretches into a smile, terrifying in its lack of menace. The man starts to shake.

'I-I said I was sorry, j-just-' his neck is broken before his next words can leave his mouth. He watches the body of the man slump to the ground, he is hungry, but now would cause too much of a mess that he has little time to clean up. Crouching beside the prone figure, he digs through the mans pockets, pulling out his wallet and a handful of coins. He stands, leaving the body where it lays, and melts away into the crowd.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 6:<span> Dean

* * *

><p><em>And in other news, James Novak, the man identified as being responsible for the murders of running Senator Michelle Walker and her campaign staff, has been sighted in Madison, South Dakota. The man, who officials had believed missing up until this point, was seen yesterday afternoon by several witnesses.<em>

_'I'd thought I recognized him, from the news reports. He was wearing the coat and everything. It was strange, like one minute he was there and the next he was gone.' _an older woman wearing a cardigan speaks to a camera. _'And then they found Allen's body in that alley; it was terrible.'_

_Anyone who has seen James Novak is advised not to approach, as he is considered a dangerous and unstable individual, and are asked to report any sightings to the authorities. The number is-_

'Son of a bitch.' he mutters, shutting the screen off with more force than required. They've holed up in a cheap motel off the freeway. Sam is sleeping, his face scrunched up, there is no doubt that Hell visits the youngest Winchester in his sleep as well.

He doesn't know what to do. His mind drifts back to the first time the Leviathans had possessed Cas' body.

_'We'll be back... for you.'_ they'd said. Well now it was coming true. In the worst way he could have possibly imagined.

He flops onto his own lumpy mattress, not bothering to change out of his day clothes. He is asleep within minutes.

He does not dream.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 6:<span> Leviathan

* * *

><p>He hides out until night falls. The human authorities have been alerted of his presence, they were watching for him. They will not see him. He peers around the corner of a building, when the coast is clear, he moves to what he has determined is a pay phone. Taking the coins he had stolen from the dead man, he pushes all of them in the slot beside device. He holds the phone to his ear while pulling out the piece of paper he had ripped earlier and dialling the number printed on it.<p>

_'Dick Roman's Head Office.'_ a female voice spoke. The lines rehearsed and mechanical.

'Put me through.'

_'I'm sorry, may I ask who's speaking?'_

'You know who I am.' the other end of the line is silent for a moment before the woman speaks again.

_'O-oh, yes. My apologies, Sir, I'll get him on the line right away.'_ there is another moment of quiet before the phone picks up again.

_'Sir.'_

'Roman.'

_'It's good to finally hear from you. Have there been any problems?'_

'A few.' he answers. 'We will be needing to make some changes to the plan.'

_'Ah. Of course, sir.'_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Ah! Chapter six! Finally! I've been so distracted by the last episode and _Cas feels_ that it was a bit difficult to get this chapter out. Anyway, as per usual, all inaccuracies, spelling/grammar errors are completely my fault but if you would all be so kind as to pardon them that would be lovely.

Also got into the Leviathan thing a little bit and also Jimmy Novak. Because he _technically _was the one killing everyone in '_Meet the New Boss'_ and I wondered why they hadn't touched on that any further. Because Jimmy's family would've seen that and said something, right? Also, longest chapter so far!

Thanks to anyone who reviewed/added to their favourites/alerts, I really appreciate it!

~DrHooksTowingandCo


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Leviathan

* * *

><p>"<em>Upon earth there is not his like, who is made without fear. He beholdeth all high things: he is a king over all the children of pride." - Job 41:<em>

* * *

><p>They had sent a car to pick him up. He sat in the back, eyes boring into the drivers head as trees, fields and the occasional building whipped past. He took his eyes of the fidgeting man behind the wheel in favour of glancing out the window, he frowns when something inside the car manages to catch his eye; a woven basket with a garish ribbon tied at the top sits innocently in the seat beside him. His frown deepens as he leans closer to look into the basket. Confused by what he sees, he speaks up.<p>

'What is this?'

The driver jumps at the sudden noise, the car swerving slightly as he gathered his wits. With hands steadying the steering wheel, he flicked his eyes to the rear view mirror

'O-oh, that?' he nods from the backseat, still eyeing the basket with a mixture of distaste and distrust. 'I believe a, uh, a d-demon brought it for M-Mr. Roman a while back.' the driver gives a shaky cough. 'S-said his name was... Crowley. H-he wanted to be 'business partners' with Mr. Roman.'

'Hm.' he hums more to himself than anything. 'A strange offering, to give a potential associate. I trust Roman declined to accept?' the driver keeps his eyes glued to the road as he answers.

'Oh yes, Sir. The demon scum h-hasn't returned since.'

Silence falls within the car and he begins picking at one of the things inside the basket. He, of all his brothers and sisters, has spent the least amount of time assimilating into the Earthen population. Not to mention that he has known no other body apart from the vessel of the angel, who was not the greatest learning tool when the subject did not pertain to the Winchesters.

* * *

><p>They pulled in front of a rather intimidating looking building. He pushed himself out of the car, night had already fallen, masking him from prying eyes. Roman is standing a little ways away, waiting with a falsely pleasant smile planted on his face. There was a moment of silence between them before Roman extended his hand in greeting. Staring, he eyed the outstretched appendage.<p>

'Are you offering?' he quipped. Roman paled considerably, smile sliding of his face as he slowly closed his hand into a fist and swung it back to rest at his side.

'Ah... no, sir. It's just a-' noticing the condescending glare sent his way, he swallowed. 'Never mind.'

He cocked his head to the side, sneering.

'I see you have integrated yourselves well with the humans customs.' Roman nodded with a quick jerk of his head. He walked towards Roman, brushing past him to the glass doors of the building. The man quickly caught up with him, speaking rapidly.

'The plans, sir, we've been making excellent progress so far.'

'But?'

'But what of the Winchesters?'

'The Winchesters proved themselves... _difficult_ to kill.'

'But they are dead, right?'

'Mmh, nope.'

'No? How did they manage to escape?' Roman questioned. He frowned, eyes darkening.

'The angel. It interfered, clung to its vessel and distracted my attention, revealing who I was to the Winchesters.'

'And the angel?'

'Gone. It managed to escape before I could destroy its Grace.'

'It couldn't be. Do you think it was-?'

'Don't say it.' he growled out. 'We will need to gather much earlier than anticipated, and strike just as quickly.' Roman nodded. 'Continue your work, gain the trust of the parasites. I understand this body is being hunted by human authorities and will remain here overseeing your little projects for the time being.' he watched Roman carefully, analyzing the politicians face for any signs of objection. True to the nature of any creature concerned with self-preservation, Romans expression was impassive and blank. After finding nothing, he stalked through the entrance. At his first footfalls, everything froze. The employees who were still bustling about even at this hour, stopped in their tracks, tensed at the sight of him. The body of their first vessel had just walked through the doors, those who caught on immediately, gave a quick nod before continuing their business quietly.

Ice blue eyes flashed dangerously and those who had still been staring jumped before hurriedly getting back to their tasks. He turned back to the slightly taller politician.

'Where is your office. We need to speak. Privately.'

'Of course, right this way, sir.' he entered the spacious office shortly after Roman, shutting the door behind him. Tugging at the sleeve of the dark coloured suit jacket, he saw the droplets of congealed black blood spotting the carpet, he raised an eyebrow.

'How many?' Romans eyes too found the spot he was watching.

'Only about two or three. They were hindering progress.' he was silent for a moment, frowning at the floor.

'Very well. But that isn't what I wished to discuss with you.' Roman remained quiet, waiting for him to continue. 'The Winchesters. They will be caught, this is a certainty. My only instruction pertaining them is that the Righteous Man must be kept alive.' he said, eyes burning with cold malice. 'I will be the one, _the only one_, to deal with him.'

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 7:<span> Dean

* * *

><p>He was flipping through the limited channels on the crappy motel television, trying to drown out his thoughts with booze and infomercials. Unfortunately, whoever was deciding what was on, wasn't keen on letting him off easy.<p>

_''-look out! It's in the water! Run-!'_

Click.

_'And join us next time on Miracles of God, when we-'_

Click.

_'-the search for Danielle Peters has been called of today. The little girl was last seen at Sioux Falls General Hospital. Officials are not yet-'_

Click.

Eventually he gave up, shutting the small screen off and burying his face into the thin, lumpy mattress. Everything was going wrong. Everyone was gone. There were almost too many to name. So he dwells on those he lost in the last few months.

Bobby.

Cas.

Hell, _Sam_ wasn't even really all there anymore. Not while he was still seeing the Devil around every corner.

He groaned in frustration, hand fumbling for his drink. When his hand met empty air, he cursed loudly into the material beneath him and sat up the same time as the motel room door creaked open.

'Dean?' his brothers voice broke whatever silence had fallen in the room. Sam moved to the second bed, a large cup steaming with what he assumed was another coffee clutched in his hands.

'Seriously, Sam?' he said. Tired eyes were glaring at him. 'How many of those are you going to have before you pass out?'

'I could ask you the same question.' Sam ground out, eyes darting around the room. He didn't comment. He knew what his brother was seeing. He just couldn't being to fathom it.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 7:<span> ?

* * *

><p>Voices. All speaking at once. Blurring together.<p>

_How is this possible?_

_He is here. Why is he here?_

_How in the Father's name?_

_Thrice this has happened._

_He should not have. Not after that traitor-_

_Can it. All of you._

Silence. Rustling; something moving.

_Is he stirring?_

_It shan't be too long now._

_Yeah, so if you knuckleheads would back up and give us some room, that'd be great._

A voice, of many, is snickering while another is slow, cautious. Confused.

_Brother, we do not possess knuckle on our heads._

The snickering grew louder.

_Hush, brother, he is wakening._

Light. Bright and burning. Warm. _Home._

Something shifts, moving figures dancing about in the haze of light.

_Hey bro._

A voice. Closer than the rest, who are still murmuring quietly.

_Long time no see._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Surprise! Holy crap. I am so sorry about how long this took. All of my brain was murdered by 7x17 last week. Thankfully, the break has given me time to mull over everything going on in the story. I've got nearly everything figured out. The ending is basically complete, I just need to come up with a way to get there.

Hopefully anyone still interested in reading this enjoys this and the next few chapters.

I own nothing. Any spelling/grammar errors are on me. Criticism welcome!

~DrHooksTowingandCo


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

* * *

><p><em>Long time no see.<em>

The voice says. He knows that voice.

He comes into full consciousness and immediately surveys his surroundings.

He is in Heaven. And it hasn't changed. Not much. The soft light is still encompassing him and the forms around him. He looks down at himself, realizing he is in his true form. He has not felt this... _free_ in a long time.

And then it all comes crashing down on him.

His moment of bliss is assaulted by his memories. What he has done. What is happening below them. He whips his form upright so fast he almost careens into several of his brethren, whom have begun crowding again.

_Whoa kiddo, where do you think you're going?_

The painfully familiar voice speaks again; though he is not listening. He bolts for the Edge. Two of his brothers are grabbing him. Holding him back.

_Let me go. Let me go! I have to get down there. _His wings flap uselessly behind him as he struggles. _Gabriel do you have any idea what I've done? What I've unleashed on them? I. Need. To. Go._

A second voice chimes in. This one equally as recognizable. Equally as impossible.

_Give it a rest, Cassie. You can't do anything. Earth is a No-Fly Zone._

His energy drains, he stops trying to get away. Still trying to understand. To comprehend just who he is hearing. It's not possible. Because none of this is possible. _They_ can't be here. _He_ can't be here. Not again, not after everything he has done. There was no reason to bring him back again.

He turns to face them. Two brothers he has lost. Two out of many, he winces at the memory.

_Balthazar. Gabriel. How? How are you-? _He cuts himself off. Unable to finish.

The taller of the two shrugs his wings in a fluid gesture.

_Same as you, I suppose._

He glances between the two of them. The archangel agrees.

_So it was..._

He trails off. Not wanting to say it. No one finishes for him. He staggers forward, only now noticing the rest of his brethren. Now seeing the small numbers which still occupied their home.

Yet there are still hundreds of voices now. Voices he'd never expected to hear again. Speaking his name.

_Castiel?_

_...Castiel?_

_Castiel!_

He freezes and suddenly is not in Heaven. A very different scene flashing before his eyes. He is on Earth. In his vessel. He can hear the voices, whispering to him.

_Castiel._

_Cassstiel...?_

_Let uss out, Cassstiel..._

_Let us out..._

Several worried nudges on his Grace shake him from his trance.

_I'm sorry._ He speaks, almost on reflex. _I'm so sorry._

Wings flutter against his own.

_Cassie what did they do to you?_

* * *

><p>It has taken some time.<p>

While most have simply become indifferent of him, there are many whom still regard him with caution and disapproval. He understands this. He has become used to it by now. He realizes there is a very real chance that he has lost both his family in Heaven and on Earth.

But he has so many questions. Blocking out guilt with curiosity. Gabriel had pulled him away from the crowd that had formed, and his questions burst forth:

_When did you return? What has happened? Why are we no longer allowed to leave?_

He manages to shut himself up before anything more can slip out. Gabriel's Grace brushes gently against his own.

_Well, after... everything, I woke up here. Everyone that was left was in a panic after the Civil War you were fighting went nuclear and since Micheal and Lucifer are stuck in the Hot Box, and Raphael is, y'know..._

He manages to sink a little lower at the mention.

_Anyway, I was the only archangel left, so after I caught up on the, uh... _snake_ problem it seemed like a good idea not to let anyone else go down there. Not after we've already lost so many of our own._

This answer was not an accusation, and was said with no malice, but it did not stop the sharp pain running through his chest. His wings on the verge of dragging behind him.

_I... But why? Surely we should be- we should be helping the humans? Those things..._

He shudders.

_I know, kiddo. Dad, do I know. But there isn't anything we could do. The Leviathan is far too powerful for us to defeat, Castiel. Even with the entirety of Heaven._

He watches Gabriel a moment longer. He is not so stupid as to not notice his brother is hiding something. Still, he has caused enough damage. It is best if he keeps his thoughts to himself.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Wow, sorry about the wait (and the shortness). But I believe I mentioned Real Life and face-kicking in another updated story. Please enjoy this though.

Reviews and critiques are welcome!


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